


The Star Wars Holiday Special

by Lovedmoviesb, msdoomandgloom



Series: The Rookie and Her Captain [6]
Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Bawson - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Nerds in Love, Romance, Star Wars - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovedmoviesb/pseuds/Lovedmoviesb, https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdoomandgloom/pseuds/msdoomandgloom
Summary: Four years, four Christmases, four Star Wars movie marathons. Bawson Holiday fluff
Relationships: Ginny Baker & Mike Lawson, Ginny Baker/Mike Lawson
Series: The Rookie and Her Captain [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1471262
Comments: 5
Kudos: 81





	1. Prequel

In the whole history of stupid fucking things that Mike Lawson had done, giving Ginny that gift at Evie and Blip’s Christmas party topped the damn list. 

He’d overthought the whole gesture. He should have just slipped it to her at the end of the night, or had it sent to her house. He probably shouldn’t even have wrapped it. He had people to handle this type of thing, people who picked up boxes of his belongings from his ex wife's house, people who bought the holiday cards he hastily signed when his manager managed to corner him. A team Secret Santa gift exchange should have fallen comfortably in the category of things he let other people handle. But then Blip had passed the hat over to Mike in the locker room, and he’d drawn Ginny’s name. Suddenly, the event had taken on a whole new meaning. 

Mike scoured store after store for a gift that meant something, barely allowing himself to question why he was putting such effort into it. If he’d drawn anyone else’s name, he’d be taking them to a steak dinner. And though the idea of taking Ginny out to a restaurant in public (just the two of them) had more appeal than he cared to admit, that option was clearly off the table. Blip would have made a good ally, but he couldn’t trust Blip not to tell. Mike could have asked Evie for an idea, but that was tantamount to confessing something he hadn’t even admitted to himself. So Mike took to the internet, researching like he was writing a college essay, searching for any clues.

An interview with Teen Vogue yielded better results than Mike could have possibly anticipated. He squinted at the screen, reading a story in Ginny’s own words about her father, about her first gift from him: a new baseball glove. The tribute was touching, a clearly passionate recollection of memories of a man that Ginny loved to distraction. Within minutes of reading it, Mike was on the phone, putting his gift in motion. It was innocuous enough once it arrived in a nondescript cardboard box. Like a fool, he’d gone to the store for wrapping paper, determined to make it pretty for her. 

Mike regretted that decision now. If the meticulously constructed golden glitter box didn’t give him and his idiotic feelings completely away, Ginny’s scream when she saw what was inside definitely did.

Blip met Mike’s eyes with a kind of pitying sympathy, like he too knew intimately what it was like to be in the hot seat. Blip’s wife, Evie, had much less tact. She saw right to the quick of him, letting Mike know that as far as she was concerned, he was as transparent as clear glass. 

He was also pretty sure he’d turned blood red in the face, but the lights were blessedly low, and his beard disguised most of it. 

A well-placed joke distracted the team, as usual, and when Blip started pouring shots, no one could care less about their captain’s lapse in judgment. Evie had dragged Ginny somewhere, leaving Mike next to Ginny’s date. The two men exchanged loaded eye contact for a moment before what’s-his-face excused himself to the bar. Blip patted Mike bracingly on the back, and Mike, sensing his out, took it. He’d cursed himself on the whole drive home, only calming marginally when he got into his garage. 

Mike kicked off his shoes, walking past the decorations the housekeeper had strung up in an attempt to get him out of his grinchy mood, and headed for the couch and the familiar comforts of an old friend. 

If there was one person in the world that Mike could count on, it was Han Solo.

He was aware that he was being dramatic, but the sad truth of it wasn’t far off. Mike would have liked to say that he could at least always count on himself, but like tonight, he’d fucked things up six ways to Sunday on more occasions than he could remember. As a kid, his largely absent parents left him to his own devices. Christmases meant quiet mornings of mom sleeping off her hangover and dad forever winning his game of hide and seek. Mike grew up, left home, and rarely looked back, determined to do better for himself. For a while, Mike thought he could count on his Rachel, on the safe place he’d forged. 

But Rachel was gone, getting remarried, and Mike was alone, on his couch, watching _the Empire Strikes Back_ on cable because he was too lazy to go dig out his blurays. 

Sighing, he leaned into the cushions, loosened the knot of his tie, and set about ignoring his darkened Christmas tree in lieu of taking another pull of cold beer. On screen, Han Solo was busy putting the moves on Leia. Mike reached for the remote, turning it up.

The buzzing of his phone nearly gave him a heart attack, threatening to send the bowl of chips near his thigh scattering to the floor. Mike groped around the cushions for the phone, intent on silencing it and going back to his loathing thoughts and nighttime commercials for Peloton. He located it, tilting the screen to peek at the name. Mike’s treacherous heart stuttered when he saw Ginny’s name and the accompanying selfie she’d programmed in herself glowing up at him. 

The phone silenced and Mike exhaled in relief. It was short-lived. A series of texts began to pop up in rapid succession. 

“ _Captain pick up.”_

_“You can’t ignore me.”_

_“Well, you probably can, but I’m going to keep texting you.”_

_“And you know how fast I can type.”_

_“I’ll kill your battery with this...bwahahahaha”_

He stared incredulously, hearing Ginny’s voice echoing in his head with every progressive message. 

_“Ok, but seriously, Mike, please, I wanna talk to you.”_

_“Why’d you leave without saying goodbye?”_

He contemplated flipping the phone over, ignoring it completely. 

_“The gift was so nice, I can’t believe it. I wanted to thank you. But you rushed out.”_

_“Was it Josh? Did he say something? He’s a friend of my brother’s…”_

_“Kinda boring, tbh, but everyone else brought their wives.”_

_“Except you.”_

_“Oh GOD, I did NOT mean it that way.”_

Mike chuckled despite himself. Couth was not his Rookie’s strongpoint. 

_“Mike...seriously, where are you?”_

_“Everyone’s asking about you like I’m in charge of you somehow.”_

_“And I know i’m not but I’m worried about you.”_

There was a beat, and Mike thought for a moment that she’d eased up. He turned his attention reluctantly back to the movie. His phone buzzed twice more. 

“ _Mike,”_

_“Please?”_

The next text was an image. Curious despite his better judgment, he unlocked his phone and opened it. Ginny was staring at him through the lens of her camera, her lip poked out like a kid pouting. Her hair was free and wild, the curls stark against the bright lights of some Christmas decoration or another behind her. 

Before he knew it, Mike was hitting call. 

“Captain!” she greeted, all bright excitement. “I want to see you! I’m switching to Facetime.”

“Baker…” Mike groaned, regretting this already. 

The damn millennial was too quick for him. In a moment, his phone was glowing with her cheerful face. His stomach gave a funny kind of lurch. 

“There you are,” she smiled, charitably ignoring the fact that he was sitting in the dark. “Why’d you leave?”

“Look, Baker,” he began, “I know a minute without laying eyes on this chiseled, beared face is a minute wasted in your book, but--”

She snorted, unladylike as ever. “Where are you?” she ignored, tilting her head at him. 

“I’m at home,” he answered, grumbling somewhat. “Where are you?” It clearly wasn’t Evie and Blip’s anymore. What’s-his-face was nowhere in sight either. 

“Outside of the hotel,” she said. “About to go inside. What are you doing?” 

“I’m enjoying some peace and quiet. I think you burst my eardrums tonight,” he hoped he sounded grumpier than he felt. It was hard to even look at her when she was like this, dimple on display, admiration in her eyes, like she didn’t know what a hot fucking mess he was. 

Ginny smiled again. “That gift, Mike…” she shook her head. “That’s the nicest gift I’ve gotten in years.”

“The bar is low,” he said, sipping his beer. “Seriously, Baker, it’s no big deal.” He was going scarlet again, his damned heart stuttering while she fawned at him through the phone screen. 

“Mike,” Ginny cut him off, scowling the way she did when she was on the mound and sick of his bullshit. “You embroidered a glove with all my first year stats. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s _practical_ ,” he corrected, cursing the blush creeping up his neck. He’d special ordered it, chosen the font for the embroidery himself. It’d come from her hometown, from the place she started. He’d outlined that all in a handwritten card, like some sort of idiot. He bet Ginny had showed it to Evie, and if Evie saw it, then she knew. Mike was playing a dangerous game. 

Ginny wiped her face. “Say what you want, Captain,” she sighed, her smile softening. “But thank you.”

“Well, you need a good one,” Mike swallowed. “If you hurt yourself again next season, I’m going to kill you Baker. Maybe that glove will remind you to listen to me.” Physical therapy had gone better than he could have hoped. He’d lost a week of sleep over her elbow, stopping himself from looming over her while she saw doctor after doctor by sheer willpower. It helped that Ginny kept him in the loop with a steady barrage of phone calls and texts, going so far as to enlist him as her chauffeur to and from the doctor.

“Probably not,” Ginny said matter-of-factly, dimples popping. “But I can’t wait to break it in.” She looked enthused at the mere prospect. “Maybe we can toss a few around, if your knees aren’t bothering you.”

“My knees are fine,” Mike shook his head. There wasn’t much to do in the offseason besides workout, and he was hoping he could stretch his career a few more seasons. 

“Good,” Ginny looked off, tucking her hair behind her ear. “So,” she repeated. “What are you doing?”

She was interrupted by a fan recognizing her. Mike waited, listening in amusement as they clamored for autographs and pictures. He’d gotten used to that kind of thing, to stepping out in public and being swarmed. It was funny listening to his Rookie navigate it. For all her confidence, charm sometimes eluded her. She was doing all right now though, if his ears were to be believed. 

In minutes, she was back. “Sorry,” she breathed, flustered. 

“Christ, Baker,” Mike teased. “You really need to find a place of your own.” People knew she was at that hotel now, waited for her there. It wasn’t safe.

“I could use some help with that,” she admitted. “I’m only pretending to be a grown up.”

“I know,” Mike snorted. “Ask your agent.”

“No,” Ginny stuck her tongue out. “I like Amelia, but...I want to pick something that I would like, not something that has great optics for whatever shoot she wants me to do next.”

Mike chuckled. “Feisty tonight, aren’t you?” he teased. She wasn’t wrong about Amelia. Mike would always have a soft spot for the blonde, but her forceful nature lost its charm a while ago. 

“Tipsy,” Ginny corrected. “They made me take a shot when I got back from the bathroom.” 

Mike’s stomach clenched again. No doubt Evie had dissected every possible meaning of his gift with Ginny, had probably convinced her that--

“Ouch!” Ginny’s shout startled him. “Ugh, stupid dresser.” She stumbled into her hotel room, flipping on the lights. Her bed was covered in clothing. The offending furniture was hanging half open, and Ginny was rubbing her elbow.

“Careful with that,” Mike cautioned. “Didn’t you just fix that thing?”

She slammed the door shut with her hip. “It’s fine,” she grumbled. 

“You’re a pig,” he told her affectionately, shaking his head at the mess.

Ginny unceremoniously shoved a space clear, flopping down. “I needed a dress for tonight. Dresses aren’t my strong point.” She pointed the camera down at herself. 

Mike privately disagreed. Judging by the way that fabric was clinging to her, dresses were not something Ginny had an issue with. Half the team had swallowed their tongue when she’d come inside in that plum colored number. What’s-his-face looked like he was king of the damn world with her on his arm.

“Where’s that date of yours?” Mike questioned, praying he sounded like he was teasing. 

“I don’t know,” Ginny shrugged like she couldn’t care less. She stretched out on her bed, sitting her gift box beside her.

“You gonna sleep with it?” Mike asked, laughing. 

“Maybe I will,” Ginny fired back. She was blessedly looking down when Mike choked on a mouthful of beer. “So,” she continued, raising the camera back to her face. “What are you doing? I can barely see you.”

“Watching TV,” he said. He shouted at his Google device to turn the lights on. The brightness hurt his eyes, but he blinked his vision clear. 

“What are you watching?” Ginny asked. “I’ll watch with you.” She began to scramble for the remote. 

“Rookie, maybe I wanted some alone time,” Mike pointed out, shaking his head at her. 

“Tough,” Ginny said. “It’s Christmas Eve, and you bailed on the party, so I didn’t get to see enough of you.”

“You see me practically every other day,” Mike argued. Once she learned that he could cook, she was like a shadow around his house. 

“Besides,” Ginny continued, her voice going curiously soft. “You’re supposed to spend Christmas with people who care about you.”

“I’m sure you’ve got some of those, Gin,” Mike said, his voice a deep rumble. 

“So do you,” she said simply. She worried her lip between her teeth, her eyes falling away from his on the screen. 

A silence hung between them, charged with a million things that Mike found it increasingly harder to not say to her. He wished she was here, beside him, in his house instead of a hotel room downtown. He drained his beer, putting those thoughts away from him. Ginny was off-limits. 

For now, at least.

“Ok,” Mike said, straightening up. His heart was doing that annoying thing where it started racing, his mind calling up scenarios he had no business imagining. “ _Star Wars_ ,” he instructed. “TNT.”

She snorted. “God, how old are you?”

“Just old enough to be sexy, Baker,” Mike didn’t skip a beat, his face pulling into a grin. 

“Is this the one with the bikini?” Ginny wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to ogle boobs with you.”

Mike laughed. “First of all, you should be so lucky,” he deadpanned. “Second of all, that’s _Return of the Jedi_ , Rookie. Educate yourself.”

Ginny grumbled, setting her phone in front of her. “Fine,” she said without venom. “What part is it on?”

“Get to the channel and you’ll see for yourself,” Mike set his phone in front of him, leaning against the chip bowl on the coffee table. Ginny smirked from the screen, then immediately began to pout again. 

“Oh damn,” she stuck out her lip. “I missed the kiss. That’s my favorite part.”

Mike smiled, setting his beer aside. “You’re a sap, Baker,” he told her. 

Ginny only smiled, leaning back against her headboard, her eyes not on her TV, but on her phone screen. “Don’t tell anyone, Captain,” she said. 

Mike didn’t think his favorite movie could get any better, but he found that Ginny’s appreciative gasps and nonstop commentary improved it greatly. By the time the credits rolled, he knew all of her favorite commercials, which Leia hairstyle she most enjoyed, and exactly why Darth Vader had scared her so badly as a child. 

Now she yawned, snuggled into her bed in her dress, her smoky makeup smudged. The gift box was still by her side. Ginny glanced at it. 

“Thanks again, Lawson,” she yawned a second time. 

Mike smiled at her. “Get some sleep, Rookie,” he said. “Santa’s not going to come if you’re awake.”

She grinned. “You too, Mike,” she said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Ginny. Drink some water,” he added as a parting shot. 

“Maybe we can get breakfast tomorrow,” she offered, eyes fluttering shut. “If you don’t have plans.”

He didn’t, and he would have been happy to cancel them if he did. “Lunch I can do,” he told her. She was going to be too hungover by far for anything in the morning. “I’ll come pick you up, ok?”

“Ok,” she said. With a wink, she was gone, his phone screen going blank. 

_Return of the Jedi_ started up, the _Star Wars_ theme blaring in the living room. Mike leaned back against the couch, watching Leia save Han from his carbonite prison. 

As far as Christmases went, this one wasn’t bad. 


	2. A New Hope

“So let me get this straight,” Evelyn started, her every word dripping in sarcasm. “You hate _Star Wars_ \--”

“Not hate,” Ginny corrected. “Just never seen it. Or the new ones, anyway.”

Evie held up her hand. “But you’re still dragging me all around God’s green earth, looking for a costume--”

“Evie,” Ginny began.

Her friend was not dissuaded. “ _Matching_ costumes,” she continued on. “So you can dress up like some nerd’s wet dream.” She shook her head. “And all of this is for a man you are, and I quote, _‘not_ in love with’.” Evie paused, raising one manicured brow. “Do I have it right?”

Ginny paused what she was doing, glancing up from her cellphone. “Mike had a hard year.”

Evie snorted. “Didn’t look like it from over here.”

“‘Rachel was kind of dragging him around,” Ginny continued. Or so she figured. Mike didn’t talk to her much about Rachel, or any women at all. He found plenty of excuses to be in her presence, telling jokes, helping her house shop, teaching her to drive. But romance was something that they never discussed. 

“He’s a grown man. He needed to figure out what he wanted,” Evie countered. “And he can do _way_ better than her.” Evie looked at her pointedly.

“And now, he’s thinking about retirement,” Ginny pressed on as though she couldn’t hear her friend. “And he really could use a distraction.”

“And that distraction, I take it, is you,” Evie rolled her eyes. “In a golden bikini.”

“I’m not wearing the bikini,” Ginny argued, her skin flushing. She looked down at the phone. “I’m wearing this.” She held up the screen for Evie’s inspection. The white jumpsuit had always been Ginny’s favorite, for its practicality and accompanying hairstyle. 

Evie let out a loud bark of laughter. “If you’re going to seduce him, wear the bikini,” she said, shaking her head. 

“This is just a _friend_ ,” Ginny insisted. “Helping another friend out. It’s Christmas. He’s my Secret Santa.”

“Blip’s getting his Secret Santa a nice watch,” Evie said. “Not taking him on a date.”

Ginny sucked at her teeth. “Evie, will you please just help me?”

Evelyn considered this. “On one condition.”

“Which is?” Ginny asked. 

“Admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“You know damn well what.”

“Evelyn--”

“Don’t ‘Eveyln’ me,” Evie countered. “I’ve got kids at home. I’ve got a man. And you want me out here in the cold, hunting down weirdly specific outfits with you. So tell me,” she leaned forward expectantly, folding her hands on the table. “Why is this so important to you?”

Ginny went a funny shade of purple, her eyes dropping. “Alright,” she mumbled, “Maybe I…”

“What?” Evie prompted, holding her hand to her ear. 

Ginny scowled. “Maybe I,” she swallowed thickly. “Maybe...I like him.”

“ _Like_?” Evie snorted. “I like a good Cabernet and a romantic comedy. You don’t like Mike.”

“Evie,” Ginny buried her face in her hands. 

“You love that man,” Evie pressed on. “And it’s about damn time you admitted it.”

“Fine,” Ginny grit out between clenched teeth. “Maybe I do.” 

“There’s no maybe--”

“And _maybe_ ,” Ginny said louder. “Maybe I want to tell him.”

For one horrible moment, Evie was dead silent, staring at Ginny like she’d grown another head. Then, slowly, the squeal began, cresting into something so loud and high pitched that it could shatter glass.

“Are you serious?” she asked, eyes brightening at the mere prospect. 

“I just wanted to do something nice,” Ginny’s eyes were fixated on her phone again. She worried her lower lip between her teeth. “I figured...if I can do that, then maybe--”

Evie reached for her hands, tugging them roughly. Ginny gasped. 

“Ouch, Evie--”

“I know a costume shop,” Evie ignored her, tugging her up from the seat. “Come on.”

“Where--” 

The rest of Ginny’s question got lost as Evie yanked her bodily from the room. 

-l-l-l-l-l-l-l-

“Rookie,” Mike crossed his arms over his chest when he saw her in the doorway. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You’re coming with me,” Ginny tugged at her long coat, praying that he couldn’t read the nervousness on her face. 

“That’s not really how kidnapping works, Baker,” Mike grinned, looking amused. 

Ginny swallowed. “It’s Christmas time,” she began. 

“Oh really?” Mike leaned against his doorframe, looking around curiously. “Is that what all the damn glitter and pine trees are about?”

Ginny narrowed her eyes. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” she leveled with him. “But you have to come with me.”

“Gin,” Mike sighed, the humor melting from his face. “I appreciate you coming over here and trying to cheer me up, but I’m not in the mood for hot chocolate, or peppermint, or singing, or whatever you want me to--”

His words died in his throat as Ginny unzipped her coat, flashing him the outfit beneath. Mike’s eyes widened, dropping instantly then climbing back up, his Adam’s apple bobbing wildly. 

“Holy shit, Baker,” he breathed on something like a gasp. 

“So,” Ginny rested her hands on her hips, “Are you coming or not?”

“I’m coming,” Mike went red in the face, looking like she’d just nailed him with one of her screwballs. 

“Good,” Ginny smiled, trying to ignore that way her pulse was pounding in her ears. “Then I need you to change.”

“Where are we going?” Mike’s question was raspy. 

“To your Christmas present,” she answered, thrusting a box towards him with a laugh. “It’s in LA, by the way. So get a move on.”

Mike’s eyes widened as he let her inside the house to wait. “Are you kidding?”

“Nope,” she stepped into his house, flopping onto the couch. “Chop chop. Our flight leaves in an hour and a half.”

She watched with pleasure as Mike raced for his bedroom, tearing the paper off the box as he went.

-l-l-l-l-l-l-

“Should I be concerned that this fits me so well?” Mike tugged at his black vest, smirking at her from his place beside her in the car. “Do you have my measurements, Rookie?”

“First of all,” Ginny arched her brow, trying to ignore the way Mike’s leg was pushing into hers. “I’m not a rookie anymore--”

“By two seasons,” he snorted. 

“And,” Ginny continued, rolling her eyes. “Of course I don’t have your measurements.” She paused a beat. “Evie does.”

Mike laughed at that, his barrel chest bouncing with his amusement. It brought a smile to Ginny’s face. She fought to keep it down. 

“So where are we going, not-a-rookie-anymore?” Mike pressed. He leaned over her, his arm draped across her thigh, to peek out of the dark tinted window. 

Ginny’s breath hitched, her pulse racing like she was about to take the mound. “I figured you’d have figured it out,” she made an attempt at teasing him, hoping it didn’t sound as forced as it felt. “Since you know everything.”

He turned, close enough to her face that she could see the flutter of his absurdly long lashes and the wild tangle of the beard she pretended to hate. She could smell the faint clean scent of his cologne. “I’ve got an idea,” he admitted. “But I’m trying not to get excited, because there’s no way--”

Their car turned a corner, slowing to a crawl. From outside the window, flashbulbs exploded in white light. The roar of the crowd could be heard from here, the buzzing of hundreds of excited fans. 

“Gin,” Mike flushed, his eyes going wide. “Are you kidding?”

She grinned, “I’m not, Captain.”

“Holy shit,” he transformed before her eyes from her rough and tumble catcher, to a kid on Christmas morning. “Holy shit, Baker.”

Ginny reached out, straightening his vest. “Pull yourself together before we get out there,” she instructed. “I’m already wearing this outfit. Don’t embarrass me on top of it.”

He scowled. “I’ll have you know that your street cred goes up every time you’re seen in public with me,” he groused. Still, his eyes crinkled with mirth. 

“Street cred?” she scoffed. “God, you’re old.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved her off. “Are we doing this?” he looked eagerly out of the window again. 

“One last thing,” Ginny halted him. She unbuckled her seat belt, leaning forward to the front seat. The driver reached over, handing her another wrapped package. 

“God, Evie really did help you with this,” Mike observed, accepting the gift gleefully. He tore into the shiny wrapping, unearthing the last part of his costume. The squeal of delight when he laid eyes on it would not leave Ginny anytime soon. 

“Can’t go without your gun,” she smirked. 

“It’s a blaster,” Mike lifted the plastic toy, “and you know it.” With a flourish, he tucked it into the holster around his leg. He handed her the second one in the box with obvious glee.

“Alright, Han Solo,” Ginny laughed. “You ready?” she opened the door as the car rolled to a stop. 

“Yeah,” Mike pushed a stray hair back into her braid. “I’m ready, Leia.”

With a grin, he dragged them out of the car.

-l-l-l-l-l-l-

The movie wasn’t bad. Ginny might not have been as big of a nerd as Mike, but she did know _Star Wars_. Her dad and brother used to go with her to the theater when the films came out, rare moments of time spent together not talking about baseball. They made her melancholy now. She hadn’t bothered to see any of the new ones, figuring it was better to miss a few movies than start crying about days long gone in the theater. Though she had to admit, it was hard to be sad when Mike was next to her. 

Maybe it was because he’d traipsed up the red carpet a few hours ago with all the panache she might have expected, brandishing his blaster and posing for the camera. It didn’t hurt that he kept her by his side, reaching for her waist to drag her into photos. His enthusiasm was infectious, and she’d posed right along with him, hamming it up with their matching props to the delight of fans and photographers. 

Better still was watching Mike watch the movie. He sat literally on the edge of his seat, leaning forward, eyes wide, a shit-eating grin splitting his face. His hand had slipped somewhere at the end of the first act from the armrest. It was now on her leg, cupping her knee. 

Ginny found it hard to breathe. 

Mike looked over at her, still smiling. “This is great,” he whispered, sitting up straighter. 

“It’s pretty good,” Ginny admitted, chuckling under her breath when he shot her a side eye. “Might be better if I saw the first few.”

His eyes widened. He leaned back in his seat, turning his head to whisper in her ear. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Ginny swallowed. “I know I like that Finn guy. And Poe. Not crazy about the emo kid. But Rey and Rose I can relate to. Besides that,” she shrugged. 

Mike rumbled out a low laugh. “Thank God you have me,” he tossed his arm behind her shoulders, pulling her closer. “I’m going to explain it to you.”

“Mike, you don’t need to--” Ginny’s protests died as he began to outline the last few films in a low, patient voice for her ears only. She could barely process his words as he spoke, his breath warm against her face, his eyes still on the screen. She went stiff as a board, hyperfocusing on the weight of his arm, the feeling when his beard brushed her cheek. In front of her, the movie played on, but Ginny could barely see it. 

The credits rolled to raucous applause an hour later. Mike moved his hand to whistle loudly, cheering with the rest of them. Ginny laughed, jostling him. He helped her up, rolling his eyes at her teasing. She was treated to a further memorable sight when several of the actors found Mike in the crowd, posing for selfies as he flushed with pleasure.

“Well?” she asked as they walked out of the theater, meandering slowly up the road. “Did you like it?” The night was cold but Mike was warm, walking in step beside her, his leg against hers. 

“Did I _like_ it?” Mike asked in disbelief. “Rookie, you know me better than that.” He glanced fondly at her. “That’s the best gift I’ve gotten in years. Maybe in my whole life.”

“Stop,” she laughed, finding it hard to look at him. She crossed her arms over her chest, shivering.

“I’m serious,” he stopped them at the door of the car, looking at her hard. “Gin, that was great.” He reached for her arm, drawing her gently towards him. “Can’t believe you did all this for me.” His eyes dipped to her costume, a flush creeping up his neck. “No chance you’ve got the bikini stashed away somewhere?”

She snorted, hitting him. “This is as good as it gets,” she assured him. 

Mike shrugged. “Good thing it’s pretty damn great then.” He nudged her beneath the chin with one thick hand, winking at her. 

She flushed, thankful for the low light and the cold air to cool her cheeks. “Well,” she hazarded a smile. “Merry Christmas, Captain.” 

She should tell him. The thought entered her mind at once, aided by the way Mike looked, backlit by the Christmas lights behind him. Her mouth simply refused to cooperate. Her stomach roiled, but she stepped towards him, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss him on his bearded cheek. Mike froze, eyes wide. 

“Ginny,” her name left his mouth on something almost like a sigh. Ginny began to panic. Mike must have sensed it, because he sprung into action. 

He turned, swinging the door to the car open. Mike helped her inside, then practically dove in after her, shutting the door smartly with a snap. The driver, perhaps sensing what was about to happen, hastily rolled up the partition.

“Mike, what--” Ginny began to question. 

He silenced her by cupping her face between his hands, leaning forward, and kissing the ever loving hell out of her. 

Ginny gasped, grasping for him, winding her arms around his broad shoulders, leaning into his warm bulk. He held her firmly, determined to take her apart with his lips. She felt hot all over, her costume like a prison, her skin catching flame beneath it. His tongue skimmed hers before plunging in, sucking and licking until she was a mewling, shaking mess. 

“Mike…” she breathed when he pulled back. 

She expected him to look cocky, to smirk at her, to make a joke. She did not expect his dark eyes to pin her so seriously, his mouth still agape. 

“Didn’t want our first kiss in front of photographers,” he muttered. 

“First kiss?” she asked, mind reeling, body buzzing. 

“Yeah,” he did grin, but a soft smile, almost bashful. “I wasn’t planning on stopping. Unless you want me to--”

“No,” Ginny practically shouted. “Mike, I think....” she swallowed. “I think I might love you.” Instantly, she started mentally kicking herself. She was supposed to be smoother than this, more romantic than this, not to just blurt it out in his face in the back of a car on the way back to the airport.

He laughed, startling her. “I kinda figured when you showed up at my door dressed like my fantasy.”

“Leia?” she snorted, shaking her head. The joke stung, though she tried to hide it. Mike’s hands were still on her face. She reached for them, attempting to pull herself free. 

“Used to be Leia,” Mike told her, a blush rising to his cheeks. “It’s changed lately.” He slid across the seat, drawing her to him again. Slowly, he pressed his lips to hers, his hands wandering until Ginny fell forward into him. 

“Me?” she questioned quietly, gasping for air. 

His laugh this time was more of a rumble. “Yeah, Gin,” he ran a finger down the curve of her face. “You.”

“Just a fantasy?” she squeaked, wishing she sounded like less of a child. 

“I mean,” he wet his lips. “I’ve definitely got some fantasies about you in that gold bikini,” he grinned. “But I’m hoping you won’t always be just a fantasy.”

“What do you mean?” she felt dumbstricken, but a curious hopeful sensation was filling her now. 

“I love you too, Rookie,” Mike told her, sounding as breathless as she felt. “And I know you have your rule, and this is going to be a huge pain in the ass at first, and I’m a huge pain in your ass always but--”

His statement ended in a muffled groan when Ginny leaned forward, jerking him by the hem of his Han Solo costume. Mike caught on quickly, caging her between his arms, pushing her against the back of the seat. 

“I want to figure all that out,” Ginny admitted, still holding him close. “With you, I mean.” She inhaled, attempting to calm herself. He pressed his forehead to hers. “I want to figure that out with you.”

“We could do that,” he told her, drawing her practically into his lap. Mike punctuated his statement with more deep kisses. He pulled the blaster free of its holster, tossing it on the seat behind him. Ginny was happy to slide her leg against his in its place. 

“Hey!” Ginny protested, swatting at him. “Don’t throw my gift to you.”

“Sorry, babe,” he grinned, kissing her neck. 

“Babe?” the term made her dizzy. 

“I’m still going to call you ‘Rookie’,” Mike warned. “But I’ve been waiting a long time to give you a pet name.”

“And you settled on ‘babe’?” she snorted. 

“I could call you Leia,” Mike smirked. “Since I love you and all.” 

“I know,” she smirked. 

“Hey,” he protested. “That’s my line.”

Ginny giggled, resting her forehead against his. Both of their eyes fluttered shut, their lips brushing one another’s. “Babe is ok,” she told him. “But Rookie’s my favorite.” 

“I knew you liked it,” Mike teased, kissing her again. 


	3. One With the Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike and Ginny get into a tight spot

“So…” Mike drummed his hands on the steering wheel, chancing a glance at the woman in the passenger’s seat. “That could have gone...better.”

Ginny looked back at him, her arms still folded over her chest. She was wearing a dark red dress, festive, the color of cranberries. It had distracted Mike since he’d come to pick her up and saw her in it. The smooth fabric felt amazing against his fingers, and he couldn’t help but cop a feel any chance he got. In hindsight, there were better places to steal a kiss from his suddenly-not-so-secret girlfriend than Evie and Blip’s Holiday party. 

“You think?” Ginny asked him, all righteous indignation. Her cheeks were flushed and she’d bitten off much of the crimson gloss coating her lips. Mike didn’t find her any less appealing. It was this very same fact that had landed him in this mess. He’d intended to sneak in a quick peck as she passed under the mistletoe on her way to grab more wine. In the end, he’d pinned her against the wall and wrinkled her dress to hell with his groping. Livan had walked in on them, letting out a shout that brought the rest of the Padres running. Even if the team had believed Mike’s lie, the red lipstick all over his face gave him away. 

“Well babe,” he began, picking his words carefully. “Evie and Blip already knew.”

“Of course they did,” Ginny threw her hands up, sinking down into the seat. “Evie knew I was in love with you before you did!”

“Not sure that’s true,” Mike tilted his head. “You had my poster--”

“Don’t start, Lawson,” Ginny cut him off. “We’re not getting off track here.”

“Fair enough,” Mike slowed at a red light. “You want to yell at me?”

She appeared taken aback for a moment. “No,” she softened, mollified. “I just didn’t want the team to find out that way.”

“I mean…I didn’t either,” Mike admitted. “But I can’t say I’m mad.”

“No?” Ginny looked at him as he pulled forward again. “Why’s that?”

“Well,” Mike turned, navigating up the road. “For one thing, if they’re going to walk in on me making out with anyone under the mistletoe at a Christmas party, I’m glad it was you.”

“Who else would it be?” Ginny snorted, amused though she tried to hide it. 

“Could have been any one of them. You aren’t the only one in love with me,” he quipped. She snorted again, shaking her head, one of her thick dark curls falling free of its updo. “But seriously, Gin,” he lowered his voice. “I was tired of hiding it.”

One palm fell from the steering wheel, settling on the console between their seats. Ginny reached for it at once, twisting her strong fingers around his. 

“I was too,” she said quietly. She lifted his hand, kissing the back gently. “They took it well, I guess.”

Mike settled his hand in her lap. “After they stopped yelling, yeah,” he shrugged. “They all were pretty supportive.” His back was going to be sore tomorrow from all of the appreciative slaps he’d gotten once Ginny went to the bathroom to freshen up. It wasn’t until he threatened them with bodily harm that they’d wiped the smirks off their faces. 

“How did you even know the mistletoe was there?” Ginny asked. “I didn’t see it when we first came in.”

“Oh,” Mike cleared his throat, “I figured since it was Evie’s house, it’d be everywhere.” In fact, Evie had assured him it would be over every doorway. She’d even drawn a helpful map. 

Ginny’s brow furrowed. “Mike, did you do it on purpose?” she asked, her eyes turning to him sharply. 

“On purpose?” he evaded. 

“You were sick of keeping us a secret, so you kissed me in a place you _knew_ the team would walk in on us!” Ginny let go of his hand, pointing accusingly. 

“I…” Mike gaped, the excuses not coming. Ginny smirked triumphantly. “ _You_ kissed me back!” he pointed out. “And it was your hand on my ass they all saw.”

She blushed, rolling her eyes. “Only after you grabbed mine.”

“Your back was to the wall. They couldn’t see that.”

“I’m pretty sure they got the idea, _Captain_.”

It was a below-the-belt move and they both knew it. In the last year, Mike had discovered there were all kinds of scenarios in which Ginny enjoyed calling him “captain”. A simple shift in tone took that title from innocuous to positively filthy in two syllables.

“See?” Mike lifted his hand off the steering wheel, “it’s shit like this that gets us in trouble.”

“What?” Ginny tossed him an innocent look. “Me calling you ‘captain’?”

“Gin,” he warned. He was getting warm under his suit. 

“What?” she repeated, simpering. “If anyone here should be in trouble, it’s you not me. If you could keep your hands to yourself…”

“I don’t think you want me to,” Mike argued. To make his point, he pulled away from her, gripping the wheel. 

She began to pout at once. “Mike…” she whined. 

Mike kept his eyes off of her with difficulty, steering into the driveway. He angled the car into the garage before closing it, shutting the ignition off. Ginny undid her seatbelt, climbing over the console and into his lap. 

“Oh,” Mike blinked in faux surprise. “ _Now_ you want me to touch you?”

Ginny smiled, tugging at his beard. “Maybe we both did it on purpose,” she admitted. 

“Sounds like us,” Mike agreed, wrapping his arms around her. “Kinda like it sounds like us to leave a party early to go home.”

She laughed. “You’re turning me into an old person like you,” she accused, kissing him. 

“Would an old person carry you into the bedroom for our favorite holiday tradition?” he smirked at her. 

Ginny grinned wickedly back, squealing in delight as he opened the door, hurrying them both into his house. 

Two hours later found them sprawled across his bed, tangled into the sheets with a bowl of popcorn beside them. Ginny was half beneath him on her stomach, resting her head on her arms as she watched the flickering television screen in front of them. 

“This one is my favorite,” she remarked, stretching against him. 

“This is the saddest one,” Mike chuckled, settling his palm on the curve of her ass. 

She craned her head around to look at him. “It is,” she agreed easily. “But it still ends happy.”

“Gin...they all die,” Mike reminded her. He’d cried like a damn baby the first time he saw it, disguising it as allergies so Blip wouldn’t notice. His friend charitably hadn’t remarked on, perhaps because he was crying too. 

“Ok, but,” Ginny geared up to argue her point, her eyes bouncing between Mike and the screen. “Their sacrifice starts the whole thing,” she gestured. “They did what they had to do to make the galaxy better.”

Mike grinned. “You sound like a nerd,” he teased.

She huffed, smacking back at him. “Takes one to know one.”

“If you say so, Rookie,” Mike kissed her bare shoulder. “I figured the end would scare you, since Darth Vader gets all...murdery.”

She nudged him, “I’m not 5 anymore,” she reminded him. 

Mike moved his face between her shoulder blades, kissing her. She shivered. He exhaled, letting his hands wander. 

“Mike,” Ginny’s whine was more of a gasp. “I want to watch the end.”

“So watch it,” he backed off, moving deeper under his weighted comforter. Ginny threw him a skeptical look, wondering why he’d given up so easily. 

“It’s almost over,” she said, turning back towards the screen. 

Mike busied himself with running his palms down her legs, smirking at the goosebumps he left in his wake. When she kicked him off impatiently, he took advantage, sitting up to reach for his bedside table. He eased the drawer open, sliding out his Christmas gift for her. The small velvet box burned in his palm as he did his best to hide it. 

Ginny kept her face towards the screen, none the wiser. “We should watch _A New Hope_ after this,” she suggested. “If you aren’t too tired for a marathon.”

Mike crawled back towards her, hovering over her. “I’m not too tired,” he promised, tugging at her hair. 

“One second, baby,” Ginny told him, still watching. She reached backwards for him, searching for his hand. 

Mike rolled her over, delighting in her surprised squeal. He leaned over her for the remote, pausing the movie. Ginny smiled up at him, running her hands up his arms. She gripped his biceps, tilting her chin. 

“Can’t wait?” she asked knowingly, already curling her leg around his waist.

“Couldn’t wait any longer, Gin,” Mike told her. 

He held up the ring box, watching her eyes go round as saucers. He stilled his shaking, drawing in a deep breath. He’d practiced what he wanted to say with Evie, but the words escaped him now.

Ginny sat up, arching against him until they were chest to chest. “Mike, are you serious?” Her voice dropped an octave lower, and she was shaking too. “Is that a--” she swallowed. 

Mike flipped it open, intending to show her. The platinum band caught the light from the television screen. He opened his mouth, prepared to espouse the speech he’d been planning for two months. 

“Yes!” Ginny practically shouted it, her eyes not on the ring, but on his face. 

Mike laughed in surprise, freezing. “I haven’t asked you yet, Rookie.”

“Well ask,” she smacked his arm, her nervousness showing. 

Mike drew her towards him, sitting her up beside him. He knelt, bringing one knee upwards with a wince, eye to eye with her on top of the mattress.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, heart pounding. “Ginny, I think we should get married.”

“Is that a question?” she pressed, eyebrow arching. 

“You already answered,” he grinned at her, holding up the ring box. When she opened her mouth to argue, her cut her off, pressing a gentle kiss against her lips. “Gin,” he said, voice low. “Will you marry me?” 

She wrapped her arms around him, smiling brightly. “I already told you I would, Captain.” 

“I’m not your captain anymore,” he reminded her. Their relationship wasn’t the only revelation the Padres were going to have to face. 

Ginny cupped his jaw, tugging lightly at his beard. “If you can call me Rookie, I’m going to keep calling you Captain,” she drew his face towards her. 

“I might call you “Mrs. Lawson”,” he hazarded. “If you want.” Mike removed the ring from its box, sliding it up her finger. 

Ginny smiled, hooking her arms around his neck. “On the field, I’m still going to be Baker,” she told him. 

Mike grinned. “I kinda figured.”

“But you can call me Mrs. Lawson in here,” she baited, eyes glinting. 

“Might like that even better than “Captain”,” he admitted, his throat getting tight. 

He wrapped his arms around her, drawing them back down against the mattress. Ginny held him close. 

“Did you want to watch the rest of the movie?” he whispered in her ear.

“Later,” she answered, sealing her lips against his. 


End file.
